Tribute to Lt. Col. Harjinder Singh

On this day last year, a tragedy took place in Coonoor, Tamil Nadu. The helicopter carrying Gen. Bipin Rawat, his wife, Madhulika Rawat, and twelve others to Tamil Nadu crashed in the Nilgiri Mountains, and the whole nation wept on the 8^th of December 2021.

My uncle, Lt. Col. Harjinder Singh, was one among them who died in this tragic crash. It was a sad day for my family, especially for my aunt, cousin, and my uncle’s family.

I can clearly remember the day the crash happened. My mom was looking at Facebook in the afternoon when we were in the shop and she told me that the helicopter that Gen. Rawat was in crashed and there was not yet any more news. Since my uncle was in the General’s team, mom suspected that he too would have been in the helicopter.

The day felt very dull and filled with anxiety as the afternoon melted into evening. One by one, we heard of the bodies of some of the soldiers being retrieved, identified, and then declared dead. It was a devastating blow on us to hear from my aunt over the phone that uncle had died. It was heartbreaking for us, but I could not imagine how much more painful it was for my aunt, cousin, and my uncle’s family.

My dad was especially heartbroken, and being someone who lost his own father as a teenager, could keenly feel the pain of my thirteen-year-old cousin. Even more painful to him was the fact that my uncle, who he called “a gem of a person” had to die.

I was not able to mourn properly thanks to an exam that I had to write the next day. I really hated how exams had to come on dates when there was either a celebration or tragedy in the family. I could not study properly either, but I managed to get something down in the paper enough to pass. The same evening, I wrote a long poem reflecting on the few memories I had with my uncle and what I felt about him.

You can read it below.

___________________________

To My Uncle in The Army

How are you doing?

It seems that you are fast asleep under the covers.

While you are a sleeping,

I think about life and death

About how the lustre of life is dulled under the looming shadow of Death.

Death, however, is sweet when everything hurts.

I'm sure the burns left you crying in agony

Much that Death, laying down her reaping scythe

Personally closed your eyes and those of others

And lulled all of you to sleep.

Though sad that you are now no more,

I am happy that your pain is no more.

Oh uncle, my uncle!

Your passing has left me with insufficient memories.

The fruit has died before it could ripen.

My eight year old eyes can never forget how you annoyed me endlessly

Much that I angrily refused to say goodbye as you, aunty, and my little cousin left for home.

My thirteen year old eyes saw you next

But you didn't annoy me as much.

Mum told me that it was because I had grown.

I wonder if that was true.

But your antics never went away.

I will never forget the sight of you bathing your dear Simba

All while asking the golden dog,

"Simba nai nai karoge?"

And we, watching would chorus

"Nahin! Nahin!"

It was always fun and laughter with you.

I will never forget your long hair that I was envious of

The pride and joy of a Sikh man.

The memory of your large body occupying the old sofa in my house

Watching television while sipping on a little whiskey

Your hair tied low

I can't forget...

How you would come down South

And sweat buckets

Making you bathe twice,

And also making grandma complain about the water usage...

Now grandma misses you too.

I remember how you didn't like the smell of coconut oil in food

Though unbelievable to me,

Having grown up on coconuts in my food,

I could understand...

I had hoped you could come down South enough to learn to enjoy the coconuts

Because I love them...

I can't forget the time I asked aunty how she met you.

It was a most wonderful story.

I love love stories...

Slow burn, enemies to lovers.

She would fondly share your shenanigans with us

Photos and videos

And every time,

I would be so happy that you're my uncle...

That my uncle is the coolest.

I'm sure my cousin and my aunty were happy

To have an amazing man like you for a father and husband.

I remember the last time I saw you.

It was on a brief video call you had with aunty and my cousin.

We were in our ancient shop,

Aunty, my mum, and I.

I can't forget the surprise on your face when you saw my short hair;

For so many years you saw me sporting it long.

Seeing you surprised made me happy.

Little did I know...

This brief moment would be my last interaction with you.

Oh uncle, my uncle!

Your passing has left me with overflowing regret...

A guilty fire in my chest that can't be quenched

As the blazing inferno of the old Nilgiris.

I wish I spoke to you more,

Shared my art and poetry with you too.

I wish I had appreciated your annoyances more as a child...

Back then I never wanted to go through it again

But I would gladly want to be annoyed by you if there was one more chance.

In my childishness,

I forgot that Death existed.

I wish you came down to visit more often

But I know it wasn't in your hands.

I wish we could have been close

Just like how you were with your beloved daughter.

I blame my shyness.

Although I never said it, being very quiet,

I have always admired you

For how loving, generous, simple, and family oriented you are.

I heard that many people came to visit after you left.

It goes to show how well loved and respected you are.

And you are!

I know, my parents talk fondly of you and they loved you

Your death left them in a puddle of their own tears.

Your strength and valour was everything I've ever wanted to have.

I have always been proud of my uncle,

And how he has used his energy for our country.

Alas, alas!

How deeply heart-rending it is to know

That you were as burnt wood under the inferno...

Even the bravest can't bear to imagine such a dreadful sight.

Your departure has left us deeply sorrowful;

Appropriate words can't be strung together to describe

How painful it feels.

I wish I gave you flowers for you to enjoy while you were alive;

It saddens me to place flowers upon your tricolour casket...

And you can't even enjoy them.

But your death was an honourable one.

According to the testaments,

You were a good man,

A man who I was happy to call my family member

A man who added joy and life to our memories.

My uncle shall not be forgotten.

Death makes one rethink their priorities, doesn't it?

Yours and the deaths of the other valiant men

Surely would have made our weeping nation think about the uncertainty of life...

How we ought to love more than hate.

I'm sure yours was a life full of sharing your overflowing love to others

And making them smile.

I know that you don't believe the same things as I do,

Neither do all those who read this epistolary poem,

But with all due respect and love,

I'm hopeful for the Second Coming

That God has judged you well

That you will wake up and we will meet you again

On the glorious day at the Pearly Gates.

Till then,

I will immortalise you in this poem,

The least I can do as a poet.

Much love to you,

My dear uncle,

Your niece,

Arnica.

- Platinum

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The pain of this event was further increased by journalists. Local newspapers reported this death in a way that seemed quite insensitive to our family. Reports were filled with falsehoods and it upset us greatly, especially me, since one of the subjects in my college major was Journalism. There was a blatant disrespect of ethics and it was embarrassing. It even made me wonder why ethics were needed in the first place if they were not going to be followed.

But there’s not much we can do. Thankfully, God is there for us, and at the end of this age, all things will be revealed to us, and God will judge the righteous and the wicked. This is why I ended the poem with a note of hope. I don’t know what sort of life my uncle has led when he was alive, but I can only hope that it was one that God was pleased with.

Although my memories and the time I spent with my uncle were insufficient, I’m glad that he was a part of my and my family’s lives. I hope that he, my family, and I will be worthy enough to see the Pearly Gates, so that we can see him again.